


brother, do you believe in an afterlife?

by lamenbabe



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Pre-Captive Prince, inspired by that marty fanart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:45:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamenbabe/pseuds/lamenbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurent saw the exact moment when Damianos cut his brother down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	brother, do you believe in an afterlife?

**Author's Note:**

> This whole things was inspired by some amazing (and heartbreaking) fanart done by Marty over at @MartySketch on twitter and marty-mc on tumblr!

Laurent saw the exact moment when Damianos cut his brother down. He saw the flashes of steel as their blades connected, saw the flurry of movement between the two men. It was a fight unlike one he’d ever seen before - it was unhinged, unrestrained, a demonstration of raw, dangerous power. Laurent understood there would be no yielding in this fight - the winner would be the survivor.

He saw Auguste’s sword drive into Damianos’ shoulder - and before he could even feel any relief of victory, he heard Damianos’ yell of anguish, and saw his sword slash against his brother’s throat in violent retaliation.

Auguste’s eyes went wide, and they didn’t close. He didn’t get up. Blood spilled out of his mouth, as he fell to the ground.

What happened after was a blur; everything moving in slow motion and fast speed all at once. The remaining members of the honor guard whisked him away as his brother fell. Laurent’s ears were ringing, his world turning upside down.

Laurent heard a single, loud scream, just one long drawn out word - “ _Damianos_ ”. He didn’t realize until later it was him who was yelling Damianos’ name, cursing it.

What he remembered - and would never forget - was the way Auguste fell after the final blow. And how he saw the light leave his brother’s eyes, and how he saw the victory in Damianos’.

He made a vow to himself.

_For what Damianos has done, I will kill him. I will avenge my brother’s death._

_I will kill Damianos if it’s the last thing I do. I will fight Damianos for what he has done and for what he has taken away. One day, I will come for revenge._

The raw determination inside of him hardened and set in place like stone.

***

They left him alone with his body, after it had been recovered. At least the Akielon swine had the dignity and honor to return Auguste’s body to his people.

His eyes had been closed, and if wasn’t for the blood he could have been sleeping. His head was slumped to the side, his hair falling elegantly even in death.

He hadn’t been properly cleaned yet, and he still wore the armor and regalia he had fought in. Blood stained his chainmail, his midnight blue cloak. Laurent tried to wipe away the blood at the side of his forehead, but at the look of his brother’s blood on his fingers; he clenched his hands into fists and pressed his forehead to Auguste’s battered armor. The sobs came not long after, wracking his entire body as he held on to Auguste. He shook with anguish, rage, and despair for all that he had lost in a matter of hours.

After some time, he looked up at Auguste, his face streaked with tears, his vision blurry.

“Brother,” he said, his voice cracking. “Come back. Please come back. You said you would come back, please come back -” and couldn’t go on, because his pain was so exquisite all he could do was wail and clutch on to his brother.

How had this happened? His brother was unbeatable. His brother was the finest swordsman, finest fighter, finest prince to have ever lived. He would have been the finest king Vere had ever seen.

How had he been bested by an honourless, Akielon savage? Laurent knew he would have to be better than both of them if he wanted any chance at killing Damianos.

He had woke up that morning as always, and ate breakfast with Auguste, as always. He had never even considered the possibility of defeat. Before he rode off, Laurent could see the anxiety under the composed determination and courage Auguste wore like armor.

Auguste must have felt something momentous that morning, knowing that this day would be go down in history. Anxiety aside, he smiled at Laurent the way he always had. He put both of his hands on Laurent’s shoulders, and looked him in the eyes.

“I’ll be back, little brother.”

His belief in his brother’s victory was so fiercely uncompromised he had never even considered the possibility of defeat. Auguste smiled at him before he rode off.

What was he thinking? Was his confidence as unwavering as Laurent’s had been?

What Laurent would never know was that when Auguste died, his last thought was of Laurent. Auguste wondered who would watch over him now - who would make sure he had enough candles lit when he read late at night to keep his eyes from hurting, who would carry him to bed when they all burned down to nothing? Who would praise his intelligence and cunning in council meetings instead of criticizing his lack of athleticism? Who would he race horses with? Who would be his friend, his protector? Who could he trust?

It was years until that person came along, and it was the last person Auguste had ever imagined - Damianos, the very man who had killed him.

Later, from beyond death - Auguste was glad - he could think of no other person worthy of his brother’s trust, and his love.

After a while, attendants had come in, to prepare the body to make the trip back to Arles, where he would be interred alongside his father. The more they tried to pull Laurent from Auguste’s body, the tighter he held on. He fought fiercely to hold on, screaming at the attendants to leave them alone. They gave up.

Eventually, his uncle entered, standing at the entrance.

“Laurent. It’s time to go.” His voice was soothing.

Laurent looked up from Auguste’s body, his face tear-streaked and anguished.

“I can’t leave him. He’s my brother.”

“I lost a brother, too.”

Beyond the grave, past death, Auguste was screaming, shouting.

***

_I am going to fight Damianos. From this day forth I will train, relentlessly, until the day comes where I can challenge Damianos. I will fight him. And I will kill him. I will bring him down with me, if it comes to that._

6 years later, Damianos is brought to his knees before Laurent. When he first lays eyes on him, his shock is so great and so bewildering it takes him a moment to recollect himself. When he'd been told he would be gifted with an Akielon slave, he had never imagined that it would be the prince-killer. Damianos had finally been brought to him in chains - but not as Damianos. Laurent has waited 6 years. He can wait longer.

“ _You have a scar_ ,” he had said.

He waits. He bides his time.

6 years later, something happens Laurent had never anticipated in a thousand years. He grows to trust Damianos. To rely on him. To trust him. The man he had been waiting to exact revenge on for years becomes the one man he trusts. His vow falls to the side, forgotten. He’s surprised when that trust turns into like, which turns into something more. Love. Laurent was certain he would never love again, after Auguste died. Loving his brother’s killer must be some ironic twist of fate.

_“You remind me of him.”_

6 years later, he finds himself in in Damianos’ warm, loving, naked embrace. He feeds words into Laurent’s ear about how it would be, if he had the chance to court him. The idea is blissful and heartbreaking, all at once, for it could never be fully realized.

_Prince-killer._

Laurent wants to hold on to this for as long as possible. Damianos is impossibly gentle, and the feel of his hands on his body makes him burn. Laurent never knew it could be like this, tender, slow, and intimate. He loved being taken slowly apart, the feel of Damianos’ body on his, their shared desire.

_“When you make love to me like that, I can’t think.”_

6 years later, Laurent decides to sacrifice himself and everything he’d ever fought for to protect Damianos. The man he vowed to kill when he was just 13 was now the man he was going to willingly die for. He wonders what Auguste would think of him, if he saw what had become of his little brother. What had become of their kingdom.

A voice broke through his thoughts, a voice that was not his.

Impossibly, startlingly, It was Auguste’s. It alarmed him; made the hairs on his arms stand up. Everything fell away - the sound of his uncle’s voice, the comments of the council, the painful weight of the chains. True enough, the clear voice ringing in his ears was his Auguste’s.

 _Laurent. You have no idea how proud I am of you. You have been my king all of these years. And I am sorry. Damianos was right. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. And, you are true, little brother. I will be with you_.

The voice disappeared as fast as it came, interrupted by commotion throughout the hall. He’s surprised again, when Damianos is brought to him in chains once more. This time, all Laurent can think is that somebody came for him.

_“I came to know his heart slowly.”_

6 years later, everything that had happened between them and between their countries came full circle as Laurent thrusted his sword into Kastor’s body and across his throat, just as Damianos had done to his own brother. Their destinies, circling around each other all these years, had finally come to a fixed, final point. There would be no more war, no more lies.

All that lay ahead was their bright, intertwined future as the kings who would go down in history as legend, remembered for all the centuries to come.

**Author's Note:**

> well, that got away from me. i may or may have not been listening to parts of the hamilton soundtrack during that, as well as 'elysium' by bear's den. 
> 
> i'm over @lamenbabe on twitter!
> 
> here's the link to marty's artwork on twitter: https://twitter.com/MartySketch/status/708800202551984128


End file.
